They All Lived Story 4: Exoneration
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Four months at Briggs, and the fighting with Drachma is coming to a head. Rumors are that the enemy has a talented alchemist in their midst. Will Ed have to fight him? And how will Ed handle it when Winry shows up unannounced at Briggs?


_Location: Fort Briggs, Amestris Northern Border_

_Date: January 10, 1927 (Earth: 1933)  
_

GeneralEdward Elric stood on the top of the fort wall, watching the battle below. He hated war. Oh how he _hated_ war. He was trying to end this as fast as possible, but with as few casualties as could be managed. Those were President Mustang's orders and, for once, the two of them agreed completely on something. That was why he had been out here for the last four months, much as it pained his heart to be away from Winry right now. He had tried, but he hadn't been able to lose track of time. In the next couple of weeks, he would be a father and, chances were, he wouldn't be anywhere near Central when it happened. There was no way the conflict would be over in time for them to bring everyone home, and there was no way Ed could leave before that was done. Not on paper, not realistically, and not and live with himself for abandoning men. He wasn't the only General on the border, but he was where the fighting was currently the hottest. A decisive victory here would likely mean the end of conflict.

If they got that lucky. Of course, it would have been easier to simply wipe out the enemy using alchemy, but that wasn't going to happen. Alchemy was only being used strictly defensively. Ed had already put up massive walls beyond the Fort, created ripple effects that knocked enemy soldiers to the ground, and several other alchemical defensive strategies. The other State Alchemists in the units under his command were following the same strictures, though there were a few who grumbled at them. But any who were older or smart, were pleased with, and relieved by, the change in policy.

Alphonse was still assigned with him, thank goodness, or he would have gone crazy. His brother was invaluable support in a lot of ways. Ed wasn't sure he would have made it this long away from Winry without his brother around to keep his mind on task, and off things he couldn't control.

Winry. He was worried; the usual worries of course, but he hadn't received a letter or a call in over a week, and normally she wrote to him at least twice in each. Phones were more difficult to manage with the frigid winter weather that often brought down the communication lines, but they had talked a couple of weeks before, and she had assured him that she was fine, busy with her auto-mail business, and looking forward to seeing him and Al both come safely home. The things she always said. He hoped she wasn't trying to make things sound all right for his sake, but then, Winry wasn't the type to sugar-coat things anyway. He was likely just being paranoid.

It wasn't as if her worries about him were completely unfounded either. Sure, he was careful, but he had still been injured a couple of times. Most recently, during the fighting a couple of days before, things had gotten intense before they had fallen back 'to' the Fort itself, and he had been wounded again. Not badly, but his shoulder had been wrenched pretty badly, so his left arm was in a sling at the moment, concealed beneath the over-coat flung over his shoulders. He was, of course, wearing thick warm layers underneath it. The northern border was cold! Especially with all the recent snow. Another storm looked ready to blow in within the next couple of days. If that long. That was good. A blizzard would halt the attacks and give them a brief time to recoup.

The battle below was breaking. It was probably not classified as more than a skirmish, especially compared to some of the fighting he had engaged in; it was the kind of thing they had been dealing with for weeks; shelling, the occasional charge, some fighting, and then a stalemate or retreat when alchemy was used. They were holding the Fort. They had given up the position further out weeks before when it became too costly to hold it. The problem was, there was nothing left between the enemy and the Fort, and if they breached Fort Briggs, than Amestris was open to full invasion.

"They appear to be retreating again, General Elric," commented Major General Morroh, who was standing beside him. "They likely won't attack again today." It was growing dark.

Ed nodded. "It appears so. We will wait for _them_ to fully retreat before we call it an evening though. Then bring the men in, and set the watch." He wouldn't leave soldiers out in this weather longer than necessary. They were really only sent out to repel attacking infantry when needed, other than their reconnaissance troops.

There was the sound of running footsteps coming up the stone stairs to the battlements, and a Lt. Colonel appeared, Franklin Ed recalled to himself - he had made a point of knowing who was serving with him, of learning every soldier he could since his first experience on the front lines. He would never think of them as faceless warriors, joined them, saluting smartly, a little flushed from running, and the cold.

"What is it, Colonel?" Ed asked. He suspected the man wouldn't dare to assume he had permission without it being granted. He was a good officer, but very by the book.

"A message for you, General," he said, bringing his hand down. "You have a visitor, Sir, just arrived from Central," he replied smartly.

"What visitor?" Ed asked. Business probably; a message from Mustang most likely if communication was down, or perhaps something he didn't want said over open communication, since that could be tapped far too easily.

The Lt. Colonel looked a little nervous. "Well, it's Mrs. Elric, General."

Mrs...WINRY! What in the heck was she doing here? "Thank you. Dismissed Colonel," he said, but he was already past the man, running back downstairs almost as fast as Franklin had run up them. He broke down to a fast, commanding stride only out of sheer remembrance at the last moment that there 'were' men in his command between him and his wife - and because he had nearly fallen down the stairs in his haste. He couldn't be seen as panicked; it would scare them, and he'd look unprofessional.

Damn, he hated the military.

Ed realized he hadn't asked where to find her, but he didn't have to worry about looking. She was waiting for him in the general conference room, a small common room style area really, with a large table spread with maps and a wall covered in charts and notes. She was standing there, dressed warm in a winter hat and bulky cold-weather coat. "Winry..."

She had turned as he came in, and crossed the room as he stood, staring. "You're hurt..." she reached to touch his arm.

Ed winced, but didn't move awake. He pulled her close with his auto-mail hand, pressing her against him, reveling in the feel of her. "You idiot..." he whispered, his tone both loving and angry at the same time. It was hard to handle emotionally; her appearing so unexpectedly; he was ecstatic to have her near him, and yet furious at the same time that she would come someplace so dangerous. He straightened up so he could see her face again. "What were you thinking? Coming up here in the middle of a war zone?"

Winry held up a wrench in his face. "'Me' an idiot? I was worried about you, Edward, as usual. And I was right, as usual. I'll bet your auto-mail's not even in proper repair either, and I know there are mechanics up here who can take care of that cold-weather auto-mail I outfitted you with before you left."

Ed flexed his arm, and sighed. "Well, you're right about that," he admitted.

"I thought as much," Winry snorted. "Sit down," she gestured to the table. "We'll get that taken care of now. I hate to think what you've done to my work."

"Nice to know you care," Ed smirked as he pushed some papers to the side, stripped layers down to the undershirt, and lay his arm down on the table while Winry hung her hat and coat on one of the available hooks, picked up her auto-mail kit, and turned toward the table. It was then that Ed got a good look at his wife's profile for the first time since leaving Central. _Woah! _"You're huge!"

Winry smirked back. "So you actually noticed," she sat down in the chair across from him and got to work. "What were you expecting?" she asked, as she tsked over his arm. "What have you been doing?" She ran her fingers over the dings and divets. "I know this stuff is softer than your usual auto-mail, but it looks like its been on a battlef...ield." She stopped, as she seemed to realize what that meant. She had read his letters, but Ed knew he had glossed over a lot of things.

Winry replaced several bolts, tested hinges, oiled, knocked out some of the smaller dings that were messing with movement, adjusted the elbow, and made several adjustments to the fingers. Neither of them spoke while she worked. Though it wasn't a companionable silence; yet only slightly strained. The situation was difficult. Reality usually was. "I'll look at the leg later," Winry finally said, leaning back. "Unless it's been bothering you? I wouldn't be surprised given the state of your arms." She looked at his injured arm as well. There was nothing she could do about that one though.

"It's fine," Ed said, standing and putting at least his uniform shirt back on. It felt weird actually 'wearing' the military uniform still. When he'd been younger, no one had forced him to wear it as a State Alchemist. Now, while he was actually acting General, he had no choice. What he liked least, was that it was starting to feel normal; that was the weird part. "You shouldn't have come, Winry," he spoke softly, but even he could hear the anger and fear in his voice. "It's not safe here."

Winry looked up from putting away her tools and glared at him. "What happened to 'me' deciding when I get left behind from now on?"

"You weren't pregnant when I made that agreement!" Ed stood up, slamming his auto-mail hand down on the table as he looked over it at her. The other screamed as he tried to do the same with that one, only then remembering the injury.

"Well I don't remember that being an exception to the rule," Winry glared back, fiery as ever. "I've been waiting in Central for four months, Edward! Fixing up soldiers sent back from the front mostly. Watching them go through the therapy to use their new limbs. Do you have any idea how many limbs I've replaced in the last few months, and we haven't even been invaded!" She was angry, and upset. Tears welled in her eyes.

Damn it. He hated it when he made her cry. Ed had to force down the ashamed feeling that crept over him. He was doing his job! "I do," he said, his voice hard. "From Fort Briggs alone, we've sent home three dozen wounded; a third of whom needed a prosthetic replacement; five for a leg, the rest for an arm, fortunately no multiple amputees. This is a war, Winry. We're trying to end it as quickly as possible, but there's only so much we can do! I hate it, but that's the way it is. We've been hit here the hardest, but we have fewer casualties overall than most of the other units stationed along the border. Everyone is ready to die for Amestris, but I'm doing what I can to make sure as few of those sacrifices are made as possible. But that means being constantly at the ready, aware of what's going on; and I can't risk being distracted." He couldn't believe he was doing this; but he had to make her go home; she wouldn't just go on his say so, or if he asked her to. Winry was too stubborn for that.

There were tears now; falling quietly. "And I...I'm a distraction." It wasn't a question.

Ed didn't want to watch her cry anymore, but it seemed a fitting punishment on him for what he was doing to her. When had he gotten so hard anyway? "Yes. All this time, at least I knew you were safely in Central, at home, far away from all of this. And now you're here! I can't afford to spend time worrying about you, Winry, and I will-" he said forcefully, cutting her off before she could object. "-because there's nothing to protect you any more than the rest of us from another bombardment. We don't know that they've hit us with their worst yet. There's rumors they have a few alchemists themselves in reserve."

Winry's face had gone pale, but she was still crying...and angry. "You're a jerk, Edward Elric," she tossed a grease-stained towel in his face. "You think I didn't know the risks coming up here in the first place? You really think I didn't think this through? Well, as usual, you're wrong! I've been following 'all' the reports, _General_. Anything I can get my hands on, and anything I can get out of our friends too. They need more auto-mail mechanics up here too. You have enough soldiers that have auto-mail from the 'last' several years of war that will need maintenance."

"We have an auto-mail mechanic," Ed scowled.

"Not as good as I am," Winry retorted and, despite the supreme confidence in that statement, Ed couldn't disagree. Winry 'was' the best, especially when she had personally designed the majority of the auto-mail in question. "I'm not planning to do something like run out there on the battlefield; I'm not an idiot. But I'm needed here too, and I'm not leaving!" She winced, and took a step back, one hand going to her belly.

"Winry! Are you all right?" Ed came around the table. What was going on?

"Yeah," she shrugged a little, despite the fact she was clearly uncomfortable. "It's all right. I'm just not 'supposed to' get upset," she chuckled. "False contractions. Really lousy things; and your 'pleasant' voice woke the baby."

Ed shook his head, but felt relieved, and a little silly for the panic. "Woke huh? Kicking?" When he'd left, Winry'd only just been starting to show. The change in a few months was so drastic it took some getting used to.

"Yeah," Winry smiled, a real one this time, still rubbing the side of her stomach. "Definitely a real pain, just like Daddy."

Ed resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her. "Can I..."

"Of course," Winry shook her head in amusement. "It's not just mine."

"Yeah." Ed winced as he reached out with his injured arm, ignoring the pain as he placed his hand gingerly on her belly.

"Should you be doing that?" Winry asked, a worried furrow forming in her brow.

"I want to 'feel' it," Ed replied, his tone having gone much softer. He had a lot more reverence for mothers than for any 'gods' out there. His auto-mail arm couldn't 'feel.'

Winry just nodded, and didn't object further.

Ed was amazed, first, by the feel of Winry's stomach; so firm, and unyielding, yet soft at the same time; the protection offered to unborn babes. The thump that came against his hand shortly there-after, a visual 'lump' that he could see as it smacked his hand and moved away, was astonishing. His eyes went wide in awe as he followed it a little with his fingers, rewarded by several more solid thwacks as the baby found resistance there.

"Hey you two," Winry said. "You can play more when it doesn't hurt me!"

Ed looked up at her smiling, if tear-streaked, face. He couldn't help smiling back. "It's incredible," he whispered, feeling emotionally overwhelmed. So much happening so fast. He pulled her close into another embrace, trying not to squish her stomach between them; an awkward feat! "You're incredible."

"And here I thought you were mad at me."

"I am," Ed sighed. "But it doesn't do much good now, does it? You're already here, and I know when I'm fighting a losing battle."

Winry smirked. "Good. Then I don't have to beat some sense into you."

"Such a violent woman," Ed chuckled. They really did have the weirdest ways of showing affection, didn't they? He leaned in and kissed her gently.

The pounding of feet outside the door, made him turn as a frantic knocking followed. "Enter," Ed barked.

Two Lieutenants stumbled in and saluted. "Forgive the intrusion, General," they both barked. The taller one spoke next. "Your presence is requested in the Communications Room, General Elric. President Mustang wishes to speak with you personally, Sir, before you debrief the troops."

"I'm on my way," Ed replied, then turned to Winry and kissed her again briefly. "I'm afraid duty calls."

"Doesn't it always," she sighed, but she was smiling now. That was a good sign. "Don't worry, I'm sure I can see about getting settled and keeping myself busy."

"Good," Ed pulled the rest of his uniform back on; glad the full over-coat for cold-weather was black. He liked it better than the blue uniforms, and it felt less like one, which was part of why he wore it so often. He strode out the door, and headed down the hallway. If Mustang wanted to talk to him before the debriefing, he might have intelligence that would be useful. If nothing else, it would be important.

Winry watched him go; then turned to the Lieutenants who were still standing there, at attention. She gave them a bemused smile. "Do you two need to be dismissed or something?"

"Traditionally, ma'am," the taller one said. "May I ask what you're doing in the General's office ma'am?"

_Kissing the General of course._ Winry just smirked and shrugged as she picked up her kit and her coat. "I'm his auto mail mechanic. Excuse me, Lieutenants. I need to see about quarters." She chuckled as she stepped out of the room. "And I think you can consider yourselves dismissed. The General is a bit preoccupied."

They shared confused looks as she walked past, and as Winry headed down the hall she heard the smaller Lieutenant speak up again.

"I thought the General was married! Who was that?"

There was a solid thunk and an 'owwww.'

"That _is_ the General's wife you moron! He's married to one of the most exclusive auto-mail mechanics in Amestris!"

Winry found herself chuckling as she walked out of hearing range.

"Winry? Winry!"

She paused, and turned, grinning as she spotted another unusual, but welcome, sight, Al striding toward her, also in uniform. He seemed much more comfortable in the thing than Edward did. "Alphonse!"

Al hugged her gently. "Does Ed know you're here?"

"Oh he knows all right," Winry rolled her eyes.

"Then he's already had a chance to explode and get over it?" Al chuckled. "It's pretty dangerous out here though. Do you think you should be here?"

"Please, Al, I just had this discussion with Ed," Winry sighed. "I'm not leaving."

"All right," Al smiled, taking the hint. Why couldn't Ed do that more often? "Have you been shown to quarters yet? Have you eaten since you got here? What time did you arrive?"

Winry smiled. That was Al, always the perfectly concerned gentleman. "Just an hour ago, and no, though I'm sure they've stowed my bags somewhere already," she said as they started walking down the hall again.

Al looked at the case in her hands. "Important work first as always right?"

"Right." Winry smiled; then she sighed. "Is he always like that, Al?" she asked quietly. "He's wound so tight... like a watch about to blow a spring. He was... different. And it's so strange to see him in uniform." She glanced at Al. "You too," she admitted with a smile. "Though you seem more comfortable."

Al tapped the rank on his shoulder. "I'm carrying less to worry about," he said, leading her down another hall, this one lined with doors, then another. Winry was already feeling a little lost. "You know, Ed. He hates playing games with people's lives, and that's how he views war. He also doesn't like looking like a target. He's under a lot of stress."

Winry nodded. "I know," she said softly. "Though it's strange. The uniform is so official so... it makes him seem older, even than he is. He looks taller too."

"Not sure if telling him would make him feel good or mad about the last," Al chuckled as he stopped at the end of one hall. "I expect that, if they know who you are, they will have put your things in here."

"Where are we?" Winry asked.

Al smiled. "Ed's rooms. Mine are back down the hall that way," he motioned the way they had come. "Cozy, but then I don't really mind. None of us spend much time in our quarters anyway. There's no time." He pulled out a key and unlocked the door, opening it and letting Winry in.

"Cozy indeed," Winry commented as she looked around. The quarters for a General were smaller than she had expected. But then, they weren't in Central. There was a small sitting area, a bedroom, and a bathroom off to the side that consisted of only a toilet, sink, and shower. Minimal, but functional. The floor was tile, like most of the floors in Fort Briggs, which were tile, or stone, but there were a couple of simply patterned, but brightly colored in red and yellow, throw rugs. The walls were painted stark white. The bed was not overly large, though Winry thought the two of them would fit all right. It also had a bright red comforter -thick against the cold – that Winry suspected Ed had smuggled in here himself; it didn't look military issue and it was his favorite shade of red. The furniture was all simple lines, and none of it particularly matched, but it was all in good repair. "What do you live in, a cell?"

Al chuckled. "Most of us don't rate the sitting room. Non-officers share common bath and toilet facilities. You'll find some color in the rooms though, simple as it is. It gets gloomy up here in the snow and ice fast."

"I can imagine." The landscape was pretty bleak from what she had seen on the way in. "I guess I should have realized quarters were so tight."

"Actually," Al commented. "I'm almost surprised they brought your things here instead of giving you quarters down with the auto-mail mechanics, or maybe with some of the female soldiers. None of the other officers' wives have dared to visit though, so maybe it's just unprecedented."

"I sure surprised Ed," Winry chuckled, she set her auto-mail kit in the corner. She would need it to work on Ed's leg later anyway. "Of course I'll offer to help out while I'm here. I'm sure there's plenty of work for auto-mail mechanics."

"There is," Al agreed. "So, are you hungry? They're serving dinner in the Mess soon."

"Yes, please!" Winry replied. "I'm starving actually." She grew quiet as she set her coat down. With the thick sweater she was wearing, she didn't really need the coat for walking around the Fort itself.

"Winry, are you all right?"

That was Al, as observant as ever. "It's nothing, really," she looked up at him. "Ed just never asked me anything really; not about how I've been, or if I had somewhere to sleep or anything at all."

"Oh well... you just surprised him I'm sure," Al replied, looking a little flustered. "And there's a debriefing going on right now. Actually," he smiled. "I only got out of it 'cause Ed ran past me on the way there and told me to find you instead."

"He did?" Winry smiled. So maybe Ed wasn't entirely thoughtless after all.

"Yeah," Al nodded. "Okay, it wasn't exactly detailed orders or anything, but he cares. He's just lousy at showing it when he's got other things on his mind."

"Don't I know it. So," Winry smiled. "Shall we go find something to eat? I expect it'll be a while before I get a chance to really talk to Ed."

_Date: January 13, 1927 (Earth: 1933)_

Over two days later, Winry still hadn't particularly had a chance to 'really' talk with Edward. The first night, she had fallen asleep waiting for him to come in. It had been a very long journey; and she had still been asleep apparently when he'd gotten up and left the next morning. The only clue she had that he'd been there at all was a wet towel in the bathroom, and the residual warmth on his side of the bed under the covers.

Winry had tried to catch him for meals, but didn't see him at breakfast, or lunch. "Doesn't he _eat_ anymore?" she finally asked Al - whom she had seen at both - in exasperation at dinner.

"Ed? Oh sure," Al chuckled. "He just works a lot. You'd probably have more luck catching him if you went to his office again."

Winry tried that, but with no more success. Ed was closeted in a meeting with all of his highest ranking officers discussing something, likely intelligence spread along the front or tactics or something, and they were not to be disturbed; or so the Lieutenant standing on duty at the door assured her very politely, but firmly. Frustrated, Winry had gone back to Ed's rooms.

The next day had gone pretty much the same. Every time she tried to catch him, he was dealing with combat itself, defending the Fort, or in meetings. Winry spent both days helping out the local auto-mail mechanics who were thrilled to have the extra help! Mirta and Jan knew who she was by reputation, and Winry found that she got along well with them both. They talked for hours, talking shop mostly. Winry learned a lot more about cold-weather auto-mail designs, and Mirta and Jan caught up on what was going on in design elsewhere. It was an excellent chance to exchange information while they were busy.

And busy they were! Despite the weather appropriateness of the auto-mail, it 'was' less durable than some other types, and needed fairly regular maintenance to keep it weather-proofed, and to keep it functional! Winry met a lot of the soldiers that way though - many of whom she had fitted with their original auto-mail, or at least the cold-weather auto-mail they were now wearing when they had first been sent up. They were all real ladies and gentlemen about it too; the men more than the women. They knew who she was of course - as if rumor of her arrival wouldn't have spread through the ranks like wildfire - but it didn't seem to make them nervous. It helped, Winry suspected, that most of them knew her from before Ed had been forced to actually use the functional rank Mustang had given him.

The second night Winry had been so tired that, after a hot shower, she had passed out again waiting for Ed, this time seated in the one stuffed chair in his room reading a book. She knew Ed _had_ come in at some point, because she woke up tucked into bed, but once again alone. It was frustrating!

Today, she had spent the morning working with Mirta and Jan again. What was odd was that she hadn't seen Al at all. He usually checked in on her -mostly, he assured her, because Ed couldn't get away to do it himself and he figured Al might be less annoying- but he was, she found out after questioning a few folk, out at the barricades with Ed, alchemically defending them. From down where the auto-mail shop was, Winry really couldn't hear what was going on up on the surface, but the occasional vibrations coming down told everyone when they were under bombardment.

Winry arrived at the Mess well into lunch, grabbed a tray like everyone else, and went looking for a place to sit in the crowded room. There didn't appear to be a seat open!

"Over here, Mrs. Elric!"

Winry turned and spotted a couple of soldiers waving her over. The table was almost entirely male, but the one waving Winry recognized as one of her auto-mail clients. Smiling, she joined them. "Thanks," she sat down on the edge of the bench. "I got a little caught up with work, I'm afraid!"

There was a chorus of chuckling, then one of the men across from her nodded. "Forgive the impertinence ma'am, but should you be working so hard? I mean, shouldn't you be someplace where you can take it easy?" He looked embarrassed. From the looks on the other faces at the table, most of them wanted to ask the same thing, but didn't dare.

Winry smiled and shrugged as she cut the meat on her plate and took a bite. "When I have to take it easy, I'll take it easy. There's too much important going on here to sit by and not help out when there's work to be done."

"You're making the rest of us look bad," another soldier further down grinned. "We feel like real slackers watching you down there, ma'am."

"Well you're not," Winry replied. "Don't be silly. You're all here risking your lives, right? You're doing your jobs, and I'm doing mine. I'm an auto-mail mechanic."

"But you're General Elric's wife! Owww," One of them exclaimed, before getting elbowed sharply by another. "Hey!"

"Gentlemen, please," Winry smirked. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a normal officer's wife."

"No offense meant, Mrs. Elric," one of the others, a Lieutenant Colonel, and likely the head of the unit she was sitting with, smiled handsomely. A smooth talker this one. "The boys here just aren't used to _real_ women; and well, General Elric isn't exactly the normal officer either."

"Oh?" Winry asked, her tone mildly curious, though she managed not to laugh. Of course Ed wasn't a typical officer! He'd have been insulted to be thought one.

"Permission to speak freely ma'am?" one of the others, a fresh faced 2nd Lieutenant, asked.

"Please do," Winry said. Not that they hadn't so far, but she knew how much they likely feared trouble if they pissed off the General's wife.

"General Elric's well, he's different," the one beside her started. "Not 'bad' different, of course," he hastened to assure her. "Just..."

"He's a hard ass," the one woman down the way commented flatly. "Just come out and say it, Jenkins. Not that that makes him different from any other upper officer," she added, meeting Winry's gaze evenly.

"Watch your tone, Myra," the Major warned lightly, using her first name, though Winry caught the undertone in his voice. There were some things that soldiers just weren't supposed to say apparently; at least, not in particular kinds of company.

"I'm sure Mrs. Elric isn't offended by simple statements of fact, Aaron," Myra replied, her tone still darkly even.

"On the other hand, I'm curious to hear more," Winry replied, her own tone carefully even as well. She noted that the woman was a 1st Lieutenant.

"Just keep a lid on the temper, Parks," the Major said to Myra - Parks apparently.

"What Myra means," the friendly guy with the auto-mail said, cutting in with a polite smile. "Is that General Elric's one of the few commanding officers who really seems to give a damn about the rest of us; but he manages not to compromise the mission either. He personally covers our backs with that alchemy of his, and the other alchemists we've got here. We're not used to it. Lots of us here weren't soldiers during the original war with Ishbal, or even a lot of what came after. Those who were, remember the violence and the slaughter that went with it. There's none of that here. It's a clean war...for what it's worth. I know, really, President Mustang had a lot to do with cleaning up the military, but General Elric well, he's really something else."

"Yeah, who knew a guy so short could be a good commander," came a quip from further down the table.

"Don't let the General hear you saying that," laughed one of the other boys. "I hear he doesn't react well to cracks on his stature."

"Well everyone's short to me."

"That's cause you're taller than everyone in the military except maybe the Armstrongs!"

There was a lot of sniggering. Winry smiled. "Wise advice," she said between bites. It seemed that the general view of the soldiers was that, while Ed was sometimes the hard-assed all-business General he was supposed to be to the troops, they liked how he led them, and the fact that he cared about what happened to them. Ed was like that, and she was glad to know that other people appreciated the effort that took.

Winry had found the same general sentiment from listening to the talk around her down at the auto-mail workshop. Mirta and Jan liked him all right, though they were as annoyed as she when he never came down for general maintenance until something had actually happened to the auto-mail that needed fixing. But they liked how he never complained when they reattached the nerves, and was always complimentary of their work. He was respectful of everyone unless they did something to lose that respect, and he seemed to be keeping a very tight rein on the temper and sharp tongue that Winry _knew_ he had. She wondered what that was costing him in stress and nerves though.

Or, perhaps, he was saving it for use with his officers. Only Al's assurance that he was still Ed allowed Winry some reassurance that her husband hadn't completely changed personalities in the few months he'd been away.

Winry was determined to catch Ed tonight, no matter how tired she got; she was not going to fall asleep again. To avoid it, she did take off early from her afternoon shift. Mirta and Jan thought little of it, and Mirta even commented that in _her_ condition, she should be sensible enough to be resting _more!_ Winry had just chuckled and headed back to Ed's quarters. She couldn't think of them as 'theirs.' They were 'General Elric's' and she was just a visitor.

The plan was simple, relax a bit in the afternoon, and catch a nap so she wouldn't be so exhausted come evening. Surely she could outlast any meetings he might have. So she curled up, got nice and warm, and quickly fell asleep.

It seemed only moments later, though a glance at her watch told her she'd been asleep for three hours, that she awakened. But what had woken her? There was definitely something. She sat up, and then she spotted Ed, still in uniform, sitting by the bed in a simple chair, watching her. "Finally," she smiled sleepily. "I've been trying to catch you up for almost three days, and I find you here watching me nap."

Ed looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Well, I... I'm sorry," he sighed. "This is pretty much my regular schedule lately. Eat on the job; cat nap if I have time, and endless meetings and planning sessions, punctuated by hours, sometimes days, of actual combat."

Winry sighed. "I know. You told me some of it in your letters. I guess I just didn't realize how all-time consuming it really is until I got a chance to see it for myself. So," she leaned back against the pillows she had been using to get comfortable. "What brings you in here before midnight?"

Ed gave her a half-smile. "You," he admitted reaching out and grasping her hand in his auto-mail one. Winry noticed that the other was still up in a sling. "I thought, maybe, we'd have some time together. I've got a couple of hours as long as no one actually attacks this afternoon."

"How's your arm?" Winry asked pointedly.

"Fine," Ed bristled a little when she didn't respond the way he had apparently expected. "Healing anyway."

"Good," Winry nodded. Why was this so difficult? Was it the fact he was still in uniform? She found it hard to feel the thrills of love that she normally did when they had time to spend together. Maybe it was the fact she was currently half scheduled, and only had him if something else didn't need Ed's attention. It was a silly, irrational response, given what he was doing, but there it was. She was pregnant; hormonal irrationality was to be expected, and she didn't feel like trying to be completely rational at the moment. "So, what did you have in mind?" she asked, squeezing his auto-mail hand even though she knew he wouldn't feel it. Still, he could see her muscles tense.

He smiled again. "Well, not the first thing that comes to mind," he chuckled. "I just hoped we could, you know, talk, cuddle...anything to make me feel..."

"Feel what?" Winry asked when he trailed off.

"'Feel'," Ed replied, emphasizing the word again as he suddenly looked a lot more vulnerable. "Anything other than stress, or anger, or frustration. I want to feel something that isn't hard; like I still have a life outside of this forsaken wasteland and a bloody battlefield." He winced as he brought his injured arm forward, but his real hand cupped over hers. "I want to feel warmth where it really counts; inside. Damn it, Winry. I've missed you so much, and while I'm terrified of what might happen to you here... I'm glad you came."

"Finally," Winry laughed, though her eyes felt damp. "I was beginning to think maybe I'd misjudged."

Ed shook his head. "I'm not happy you put yourself, both of you, at risk like this. I'd like to ship you off on the next train out of here, but unlike everyone else here, you don't take orders from me." His tone dripped with irony.

"So why don't you come over here and keep me warm while you're doing a lousy job of sweet talking?" Winry suggested. He needed her; just as she had known he did. That was why she had come.

Ed chuckled and did as she asked, joining her on his side of bed, where she could lean in under his good arm, with her belly resting just on/against him. It was nice to have the support. He shed the outermost layers of uniform as he joined her.

Winry sighed. "I'll be glad when it's all over. I hate seeing you like this. Despite fighting being one of your better skills, especially with alchemy, it just seems wrong to see you leading people into battle."

Ed sighed, his hand stroking her hair and back. "It feels strange," he admitted. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it. I hope I don't 'have' to get used to it." He paused, then suddenly, he grinned. "I've been kicked."

Winry smirked. "I know. I felt it. That happens a lot. Not much space left to stretch out apparently."

"Well he seems to be doing a pretty good job with making the most of available resources," Ed teased.

"Well he, or she, eats more than you do," Winry laughed, poking Ed playfully. "Though I don't know where you put it." He looked tired, worn, and as lean as ever.

"Hey," Ed blocked her finger. "It's not my fault I can burn it all in a day," he shrugged.

Winry sighed. She was definitely more than ready to have this baby. She wanted her body back! She also wanted her emotions to stop sky-rocketing up and down even more than normal. "Lucky."

Ed kissed her cheek. "Am I being an insensitive clod again?"

"No," Winry gave him a small smile. "I'm just wallowing in self-pity."

"Well stop," Ed replied. "You look amazing. I mean it. It's incredible to know that there's a baby inside you, our baby, and in just a couple of weeks, we'll be meeting her, or him, for the first time. You're part of a miracle, and I'm almost jealous."

"Jealous? You had your part in this too," Winry chuckled.

Ed gave her shoulder a squeeze. "But you're doing the one thing I can't do, even with alchemy; create and nurture life. All I can do is my best to make sure there's a safe world to bring him into."

Winry was always surprised, though she knew she shouldn't be by now, of just how deep Ed's thoughts could go, philosophically, and in other ways. He _was_ a genius, despite his tendency to respond to most situations based on his emotions and convictions more than the keen knowledge and logic Winry knew he possessed. What struck her now was Ed's indomitable respect and awe for life, and for creation. "A safe world's a tall order," she replied. "But if anyone can manage it, you can. I know everything will be all right, Ed," she spoke softly. "If nothing else, the world has learned not to underestimate you and, yet, I think they still do. You always come out on top in the end, and good always comes of it for others."

"Funny, I didn't think the world cared that much about what I do," Ed snorted, sounding like he didn't quite dare to believe her. "If nothing else, it keeps trying to knock me, and everyone else, down. Or at least sometimes it seems that way."

"And yet you never stay down," Winry smirked. "Wouldn't that be equivalent exchange too...or at least balance?"

"Everything evens out in the end," Ed nodded. "I love you," he smiled then. "Even if you do smack me over the head with a wrench every now and then."

"Only when it's necessary," Winry replied. "I love you, too."

"Are you sure you're all right," Ed asked. There was no urgency in his question this time, but an honest questioning, as if he still wasn't sure she wasn't hiding some worry from him.

"For the last time," Winry rolled her eyes, but kept smiling. "I'm fine. _We_ are fine. I've already talked to the Fort hospital, and our child will definitely not be the first one born here if it comes to that, which seems pretty likely to me."

Ed's face turned slightly pale. So he was still nervous about that too. That much was clear. "It is that soon," he nodded. "It seems so unreal. I feel like I've missed out on so much of this already."

"Well you won't miss the important part," Winry replied firmly. The last thing Ed needed was to feel guilty. That was the other reason she had come! "You'll be right there with me. Gracia 'assured' me you're perfectly capable of handling it," she grinned.

Ed laughed, though he was clearly only half amused. "Yeah, well. Hopefully I can handle it better than a panicked twelve year old.."

"If you can face down enemy alchemists, homunculi, Nazis, and my grandmother, I'm sure you can handle a little thing like watching me give birth," she stuck her tongue out at him. It just felt good. "I'm the one who has to do all the work after all."

"You're just trying to make me feel guilty now."

"Maybe," she said, teasing. "But guilt's better than anger and frustration right?"

Ed groaned, and nuzzled her neck playfully. It tickled! Winry squealed and pulled away a little; though his arm around her shoulder wouldn't let her go far. "If you _weren't_ pregnant I'd be more interested in a whole different set of emotions."

"That's how we got here in the first place," Winry retorted. "You used to be a lot more innocent."

"I used to be a kid," Ed shrugged, surprisingly not offended. Maybe she was losing her touch? "I used to be oblivious to your feelings and in complete denial of my own too. Would you rather have that me back, or the one who can't resist you?"

"Can't resist me except anytime Amestris, or anyone helpless, needs saving," Winry pointed out, then she shrugged. "I love you the way you are, Ed. Frustrating or not, I always have. No, I wouldn't trade what we have now for anything. Especially not now that I can't see over your head anymore."

"Oh you're going to pay for that one," Ed smirked, thwacking her lightly with a pillow. Winry laughed and shoved back. It was an awkward, and rather one sided battle given she couldn't move all that easily, nor did she want to. It was only a minute or so before she found herself once more snuggled against Ed, but a little breathless, and with a very active baby inside. "Maybe we shouldn't do that again for a while," she commented.

"Sorry," Ed kissed her softly. "I didn't mean to wear you out."

"That's all right," Winry smiled. "I didn't think I'd be so tired. But then, we haven't been able to do this in a while." Just cuddling with him felt so good, the fact that they couldn't do anything else really didn't matter much right now.

Ed squeezed her gently. "I promise you, I'm going to end this war and come home as fast as I can."

"Without costing needless lives or your own integrity," Winry finished. Ed didn't need to say it, but Winry knew it was true. It was important.

"Yeah. That always seems to make things more complicated, doesn't it?" Ed smiled, but Winry could tell his spirits had been dampened once more by the reality beyond the door, and the halls beyond it.

"The complicated answer is often the right one," Winry replied. "It's also really the simple one, just not the most expedient. It'll be all right."

They stayed snuggled together until they both drifted off again. The room had no windows, so it was hard to tell what time it was, but when they awakened again, there was a covered tray - still hot- and a note on the little table in the sitting area. "What is it?" Winry asked as Ed got off the bed and went over to it. He began to chuckle as he read.

"It seems I've been temporarily relieved of duty."

"What?" Winry looked at him, not sure she'd heard right.

"Well, for tonight anyway," Ed smiled, turning back to her. "Apparently my entire staff thinks I need to spend at least the next twelve hours sequestered with a beautiful woman."

Winry smirked. "While I'm sure normally that would have much more interesting connotations, I'm afraid you'll have to make do with me then."

Ed leaned over her, his nose brushing against hers as he gazed into her eyes with that warm, deep golden gaze. "Winry, you are _always_, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

Winry cherished those occasions when Ed reminded her just what it was that made her so completely in love with_ him_ of all people. This was definitely one of them.

_Date: February 2, 1927 (Earth: 1933) _

"Okay you," Winry sighed in frustration, glaring down at her belly. "I'm ready when you are." As usual, there wasn't much response. She'd been at Fort Briggs for nearly a month, and her due date had come and gone. Two weeks gone! Enough was enough already! "Fine, if you're going to be that way." She pulled her sweater on over her shirt and picked up her tools. It was time to get to work. Ed was already gone for the day; he'd been pulled out of bed earlier than usual. Several floors above them, there was a battle going on. The vibrations coming down from above as she walked down the halls and stairways to the auto-mail workshop made that clear enough. It was worse than usual.

Winry had learned to judge when to be truly concerned by the reactions of the military officers around her. Today, a lot of them looked more nervous than they should. "What's with folks this morning?" she asked Mirta as she dropped into her now usual chair.

"The Drachmans are making a real push for the Fort," Mirta replied, more grim than usual. "A pretty serious one. They've been shelling us since dawn."

"They've done that before though," Winry commented as she did her routine check to make sure all her tools were properly functional.

Mirta nodded as she hung an auto-mail arm back on a hook on the wall. "But there's news from down the front, or so I hear, that they're bringing in the 'heavy' artillery from their capital."

Winry turned quickly, and cursed as she nearly tossed herself off balance. "Alchemists."

"Alchemists," Mirta's scowl deepened. "At least one. Drachma doesn't have much in the way of alchemy on its own, right?"

Winry nodded. She'd heard something like that. They had alchemy of course, but they didn't have as many trained alchemists, or the same military system that Amestris did. "They could be paying them to work with their military," she agreed. "If there's one who doesn't work _for_ the people." But then, she knew Ed had met plenty of alchemists who didn't follow the alchemist's code. "We have alchemists to counter them though."

"If they're strong enough," Mirta replied. "Most of our boys aren't warriors though; not with alchemy, and while ours aren't supposed to be killing with it, I doubt their side will be willing to play by the same rules."

Winry felt a cold shiver run through her. No, they wouldn't, would they? "Is there anything to say when their alchemists will arrive?"

"All I get is rumor of course," Mirta shrugged, taking down a leg and beginning to repair half of its busted foot. That was all Mirta ever 'got' of course, but Winry had noticed that Mirta's 'rumors' and 'gossip' from the troops were pretty much always correct. "But from what I hear if they haven't arrived already, they probably aren't going to."

"Then let's hope they don't," Winry replied. "Where's Jan this morning?"

"Topside," Mirta said. "For emergency repair work. It's a full out battle up there."

"What should we do now, brother?" Al asked Ed, frowning with concern at the battlefield below. There were three other alchemists assigned to Fort Briggs, but there was only so much all of them could do in this kind of situation.

Two of the others were fairly new State alchemists, and the third a veteran of Ishbal of limited talent. None of the others could perform alchemy without drawing out a transmutation circle, though Ed had made sure that they all had gloves akin to Mustangs and, he had found interesting, that Al had commissioned as well, despite the fact he no longer really needed them. "Better prepared," he had told Ed, who had decided that perhaps it was a good idea after all. He'd had enemies stop him in the past by keeping him from making a circle with his body. This circumvented that weakness, much as that was still his best option.

They really were running out of options. Ed scowled down at the battlefield. "Not much left we can do directly," he grimaced. Not without hitting their own soldiers and he wouldn't risk that. The idea was to minimize loss of life, not just end things as fast as possible. If they'd just wanted it over, Ed could probably have flattened the whole place himself in seconds. But it didn't work that way. "We aren't the offensive weaponry."

Al nodded. "We've got to do _something_."

"Wait," Ed watched as the battle scene changed. "Something's happening."

"Are they retreating?" Major General Haskill asked, coming up beside them. There were other ranking officers up here with them, watching what was going on below.

"No." Ed watched as the soldiers behind the main fray parted, and a single figure, in a billowing bright ice-blue coat, strode between them. "I think they're bringing out _their_ 'big guns.'" He looked at Al, who glanced back and gave a short nod of agreement.

Here... was the rumored enemy alchemist. There had been news of alchemical attacks at other posts along the border, but all of them had been relatively minor, likely more to distract the military elsewhere. Fortunately, it hadn't tricked Ed. He'd been expecting this sooner or later. "Finally," he said grimly, though he smirked. "I think we're about to get the chance we've wanted to end this, gentlemen." He ignored their confused, and often worried, looks, as the figure continued to stride forward. Ed was waiting for him to tip his hand. His orders from Mustang were specific; no soldiers, no civilians, no war atrocities, but if an enemy alchemist wanted to get into it, Ed was welcome to teach them an abject lesson...personally.

There; he caught the motions of hands as sheets of ice shot forward, parting the fighting soldiers sharply and tossing them aside. Yep, this was their alchemist. The figure strode up to the wall, bold as he could be, and tossed back the hood of the coat. Ed blinked. So, he'd misjudged. The hard lines of the face below, and the sharply pulled back white-blond hair, belonged to a woman; as cold as the ice she seemed to wield.

The battlefield had gone oddly silent, the fighters having lost their interest in fighting to see what was happening...from both sides.

"Fullmetal Alchemist!" The woman's voice was a hard alto; cold, and demeaning. "You cannot expect to win a war in this paltry fashion! Waves of weaklings will die for years this way."

Ed looked down at her. Talk about melodramatic! So, this was going to get personal quickly. Good. That gave him a lot more lee-way. "I take it you're here to suggest an alternative," he called back down; his own voice steady as a rock. He knew better.

"Don't be foolish. I am here to win," the woman called back with derision.

"Then why waste time talking if you have no plans to compromise?"

There was no amusement on the face below. "To offer you a final chance to surrender. Do so, and everyone here will only be imprisoned. There will be no slaughter, no needless death, no torture or atrocities. Surely you can appreciate that."

"Sure," Ed smirked, letting his own edge of anger show. "Except that when we win, none of our soldiers will be imprisoned at all."

"You cannot expect to beat an Ice Alchemist on her home soil, Fullmetal." All around her, sharpened columns of ice rose up out of the ground. "This is the North. My abilities are limitless."

"No one is limitless," Ed scoffed back. "And ice is just frozen dihydrogen monoxide when it comes down to it."

"Umm... General Elric do you think it is wise to antagoni-"

"A moment," Ed glared at Haskill. "Trust me."

The Ice Alchemist was scowling. "Upstart pup, you try my patience. Surrender!"

"Not a chance, Ice," Ed yelled back. "I refuse to surrender to a cold-hearted bitch. You want this Fort? You want Amestris? You have to get through me first!"

"Edward!" Al looked horrified. "Why are you provoking a fight now?" At least he spoke quietly.

Ed gave him a confident smile. "Sorry, Al. I've got orders." He looked down at the Ice Alchemist below, who seemed to be seething beneath her frozen exterior. Or perhaps that was Ed's wishful thinking.

"A pointless challenge, Fullmetal. I was planning to take you out on my way through anyway."

"That's a laugh," Ed hopped up on the edge of the stone parapet. He hoped he made a pretty tempting target. His arm had been out of the sling for a week, and he was otherwise in prime condition. He could handle this. Or at least, that was what he kept telling himself. Fear was a luxury he couldn't afford. "Why don't we make a little bet?"

"I don't bet with pompous windbags."

"All right, if you're too much of a coward," Ed shrugged. "I was going to offer to save you the trouble of blowing the place to bits. But if your _government_ isn't interested in having a border stronghold intact..."

That little dig hit its mark. "What did you have in mind, Fullmetal?"

Ed didn't much care that she hadn't addressed him with 'due respect' and used his military title. This was an Alchemist matter, and he was much more comfortable with it that way. "A little deal; an alchemist's duel. You and me. Whoever calls it quits first loses. Winner's side gets Briggs." He ignored the gasps behind him, and Al quietly assuring them that Ed had 'not' lost his mind or suddenly switched sides. There was some strategy at work here. "Oh, one thing. Anyone gets hurt, anyone at all, during the fight, and the deal's off."

Ice seemed to be contemplating the matter rather seriously. Not that he'd seen her be otherwise as she continued to scowl. "No casualties. You are too soft-hearted Fullmetal, but I accept the terms of the challenge. I hope _your_ government doesn't burn your image in effigy for generations for handing them over to Drachma so foolishly."

"Let me worry about that," Ed replied then, with a flip, he dropped to the ground below, and stood, facing the woman from only a few feet away. She had a couple of inches on him. Maybe she was wearing boots; yeah. Definitely heels on the boots.

"I heard you were reckless," Ice replied, smirking; the first other expression she had shown. "I do hope you prove to be _something_ of a challenge. I'd be disappointed if it all turned out to be hype."

"Well," Ed brought his hands together sharply in front of his face. "Why don't you judge for yourself?"

Ice didn't have a chance to react as he slapped his palms to the ground, sending it heaving upward to toss her backwards. She was fast though, and jumped, coming down hard, but on her feet. Her hands were, unsurprisingly, gloved and marked with transmutation circles. A trick everyone seemed to have picked up since Mustang came up with the idea!

How annoying. Ed didn't have time to think more as around him the water vapor in the air condensed into icicles and shot toward him, Ed dodged and blocked, using his auto-mail arm to deflect until he warmed the air enough with friction generated by a wall of tiny rubbing flecks of stone to make the icicles fracture and split; he ignored the smaller fragments that hit as he had to dodge a huge ice rod that slammed into his side with a sickening crunch.

Damn it! Ed rolled again, coming up with his preferred spear in hand. He charged, trying to take it in close, but was caught before he connected as she whipped one hand around and seemed to pull water from the air itself again, soaking his spear head and freezing it; the metal shattered and Ed went past her.

She was good…and he wasn't used to dealing with ice. Ed spun and shot out his auto-mail leg, catching her ankle. He could win this fight that way as well. Perhaps she was less accomplished as a physical fighter than an alchemist.

No such luck. She dropped, but came back up as he did, and Ed found himself dodging as she dropped to her knees, and suddenly pockets of snow seemed to explode as they turned to steam beneath his feet. Ed dodged, then leapt onto a high rock, out of the snow. She seemed to be very specifically focused on the use of water in its various forms; water, snow, ice, steam…. Ed had to figure out how to use that to his advantage.

Ed ignored the pain in his side from where he'd already been slammed. Gritting his teeth, he shunted it away; he would be as cold as his surroundings, and as numb. He had to be; and his mind just as sharp and jagged. Otherwise…he was in even worse trouble than he thought.

The startling sudden increase in the sounds from above, not nearly as regular or familiar as the thud of the shells, made Winry and Mirta both look up.

"It's begun," Mirta sighed softly.

Winry nodded, her heart jumping into her throat. "That's definitely alchemy," she agreed as she finished the repairs on the arm of the Colonel that was seated next to her work bench. "There you go, Colonel Harrier."

"Thanks," he stood, smiling as he flexed the hand of the auto-mail piece that was attached just below his elbow. "Good as new. Back to work for me then." He smiled at them both, then his expression returned to a soldier's business-face as he walked out of their workshop.

"That's it for now, unless Jan gets overloaded up topside," Mirta sighed, leaning back against her workbench. She looked up. "I haven't heard a ruckus like that since this whole mess started."

"Sounds like their mystery Alchemist showed up after all," Winry commented flatly. Her stomach twisted, and she felt nauseous. If he had, than she knew far too well what she was hearing up there.

Mirta glanced at her, showing a rare moment of concern. "General's giving them a taste of their own medicine if I had to wager. He's the one who challenged President Mustang to actual combat for an Assessment once right?"

"Word does get around, doesn't it?" Winry smiled a little, though it was wan.

"Everyone gossips about senior officers," Mirta shrugged. "Especially unusual ones. Other than the rumblings of folks who don't really know what to do with a State Alchemist whose last rank was 'Major' being handed four-stars after seven years essentially Missing in Action? Not everyone was pleased of course, but no one's going to say anything that'll get them court-martialed if they can help it."

"Of course not," Winry nodded. She rubbed the side of her stomach absently. Maybe she should get something to eat. Worrying was only making things worse. "It really sounds like a duel up there." Would Ed be foolish enough to take on an unknown alchemist one on one? Would Al let him do it? Why weren't the alchemists taking him on together? Or maybe was that why there was such a ruckus?

Mirta shrugged. "Certainly sounds that way. Won't know for sure til we see some wounded down this way likely though. If it's not over before then. Usually when they pull out Alchemy, the fight's over pretty quick."

But the fight didn't sound like it would be over quickly. If anything, it seemed to be getting more intense. Winry took to pacing the workshop, too irritated and concerned to keep still as she tried not to panic or let the worst get to her. She wasn't usually this much of a pessimist.

"You all right?" Mirta asked after a solid fifteen minutes of pacing.

"Fine," Winry replied shortly. How could the fight still be going? Was it possible for one to last this long? Should she just be relieved that Ed was probably alive if the fight hadn't ended? "I just..." she paused again as a small nudge of nausea hit her again, her stomach clenched. No, wait. That wasn't right. She stood still, waiting for it to ebb. "I think," she contradicted herself a few seconds later. "That I might be in labor."

The ground rumbled again as spikes of earth shot upward all around the Ice alchemist, encasing her in dirt, or at least, it almost did. She leapt at the last second and dove, using a patch of snow to create ice to slide out of the way.

Ed took the moment to attack again, then blinked as his feet splayed out from under him. What the?!...he fell, slamming into a hard ridge of ice that seemed to rise up to meet him. He cracked his head against the ridge before he rolled against it, then came up on his feet again. He was bleeding in half a dozen places, but he was holding his own. For how much longer, he wasn't certain though. They had been fighting for a solid half an hour… he'd never had a battle last longer than a few minutes.

His opponent looked much less the worse for wear. Pummeled and pounded perhaps, but really unhurt otherwise. Ed hadn't done any direct damage. He needed to take her down though; this was beginning to wear on him more than he wanted to admit. He knew that, despite the fact he really couldn't feel it now, not in the cold, and the rush of battle, he was badly hurt. Then, he had an idea. Grinning maniacally, Ed dropped to the ground, and out from the barren earth, shot old gnarled roots to snag around her ankles and drag her down.

Ice seemed caught off-guard, as she became completely tangled and fell, but as Ed ran in again to try and get her to call the fight with his sword-arm raised, she twisted, and the vines also seemed to explode from within…the necessary water that helped them grow, was also a weakness. "You are not so clever as you think!" Ice retorted in her thick Drachman accent. She stood, brushed herself off, and smirked, sending a wash of droplets at his face that froze as they flew, stinging horrible as they hit. Ed ducked, momentarily stalled. "There is no way you can beat me in a land of ice and snow!"

"Oh there's always a way," Ed replied, shaking his head. "The question is how long it takes me to pull it off!" He didn't want to kill her here, not if it could be avoided and still bring peace. Besides, he had orders…

The battle continued, he tried wrapping her in rocks, turning the permafrost below their feet to quick-sand, and even trying to use wind to pin her down, her hands apart and no way to draw an alchemy circle. All good tactics, all countered before the fight was called. It was definitely the most even fight Ed had dealt with in a long time; at least if the rules of the duel were taken into account.

"I am tired of this, Fullmetal," Ice spat finally, then she smirked, a wry twist that was – in Ed's mind- rather unattractive. "I think I'd like to end this now. I am growing rather bored if this is the best you can do. Your skills are highly over-rated."

Behind her, a tightly controlled run of snow and rocks – a miniature avalanche of the strangest proportions! – roared down from the rock above her, dumping to the earth and streaking for Ed with a face like a giant snake, and fangs of rock.

Ah hell! Ed didn't even have time to slam up an earth wall, he just dodged…skidding to a stop as it went past, and spinning to intercept it then, transmuting the rocks inside and slamming them back down into the earth to slow the tide.

But it wasn't enough. The front end slammed, full force, into a small knot of Drachman soldiers, who cried out as they were suddenly 'devoured' by the force of the snow-formed serpent. The screaming stopped almost as soon as it had begun.

Ed felt the anger seething within him. This had to end. Now!. "Deal's off!" He charged in full force, rushing forward as Ice turned her smug face toward him

Ice's face froze in a mask of grotesque pain as she stared down at him, trembling; eyes wide in shock.

Ed held still, his transmuted sword-arm sticking straight through her center of mass and out the other side. He glared at her, forcing himself to meet her eyes. This was his call. "Some advice," he spoke to her, but he allowed his voice to carry to any who were within hearing distance. "Never mistake the choice _not_ to kill for the inability to do so. _Yours_ is a needless death." He stepped back, transmuting his arm back to normal as the woman dropped to the knees wobbled on them briefly, then fell to the ground. The life went out of her eyes.

Ed looked up, once again aware of the cold, of the pain in his left arm that told him he had over-extended his shoulder again. Wounds began to sting. Around him, there was a large open area, but beyond the decimated area that had been their dueling arena, many faces, Drachman and Amestrian were staring at him in a combination of awe, disbelief, and a lot of outright fear.

Ed spotted the Drachman General and what he was sure were the other commanding officers through the settling dust. "This is done!" He shouted when they made no move to come closer. His voice carried well in the mountains, echoing clearly. "Take your soldiers and go. Retreat on all fronts, and Amestris will consider this done with. We will consider this breach of treaty and trust as a singular incident, but we will remain wary, and vigilant. We ask for no surrender, only that you retreat and leave the border in peace. I promise safe passage from here to Central only for any one ambassador you may wish to send; that is the deal I am authorized to make."

As the echoes of his voice cleared away, Ed heard the rustle of soldiers as they continued to move out of the way; Amestrians scrambling back into Fort Briggs while they had the chance, and the Drachman's back towards their own lines and the safety of the mountains. Ed didn't avert his eyes from the high ranking Drachman behind them, standing only two hundred yards away. The man did not turn either, but the other officers were a flurry of whispers and he was sure they were all discussing the options. From the badly hidden panic from some, Ed was sure that his guess -and Mustang's- had been correct. This Ice Alchemist was their trump card, and they'd just lost.

Finally, the Drachman General nodded. "I will take your message to my government," was all he said. Then he turned and strode off into the wind-blown flurries that were beginning to fall.

Ed stayed on his feet till they were out of sight, and the rest of the Drachman's had taken advantage of their chance for a hasty retreat. He felt light headed, dizzy, and as the adrenaline from the fight drained away, he swayed, and collapsed. -

- into someone's arms. Ed blinked, startled, and looked up to find that Al had caught him. "Easy there, Brother," Al smiled, speaking softly and hauling him back to his feet. "Let's not spoil the effect. Half the army is going to think you can walk on water after this."

Ed smirked through the pain. "At least on ice," he quipped. He'd been injured in a few places, he could tell. How badly he wasn't sure. He didn't seem to be bleeding a whole lot; at least, not much more than usual. His uniform had stains in a couple of places already.

"Let's get you inside," Al suggested. "You need a doctor."

Ed did his best to look like he wasn't completely dependent on Al to get back inside, forcing himself to walk, even with the injury on his leg, until they were out of sight of the common soldiers. They were, however, accosted by his staff of officers as they headed to the Infirmary.

"What was that all about?" Haskill asked what they were all obviously thinking. "Offering up Briggs like that?!"

Ed grinned. "A little strategy President Mustang and I worked up actually. Sorry, but it was on a need to know basis and well... now you know."

"What kind of strategy do you call that?!" Major General Morroh asked, clearly outraged.

"Bluffing," Ed replied with a shrug, and a grimace. Yep, the shoulder was definitely out of commission again for a while. "There's a certain amount of ego that goes with being an Alchemist, especially one willing to use Alchemy _against _people, instead of using it to help them. Alchemy isn't meant to be just a destructive force, but constructive as well. Even if you follow the full process through in a transmutation, how it's used has to stay in balance as well. There are certain rules that cannot be bypassed without consequences. A lot of Alchemists have been known to consider themselves good enough to find ways of overcoming that."

"What does this have to do with your little display of bravado?" Morroh asked impatiently.

"I forced her into the confrontation," Ed replied. "If she refused, with commanding officer's watching, than either her loyalty to Drachma is called into question, or her skills."

"How did you know you'd win?"

"I didn't," Ed said as they entered the Fort hospital and Al deposited him on the nearest available bed. Ed sat down, refusing to collapse in front of the men who were currently convinced he was likely either insane, brilliant, or a little of both. He hoped he could convince them it was more of the latter. "But I knew she'd take the chance of an easy victory for the Fort in exchange for their promise that no one would be injured needlessly. It cost her less to accept than to turn me down. She'd have had to fight me, and likely Al, and every other Alchemist and able soldier here otherwise, which would have taken a lot of time, energy, and resources."

"So she agreed," Haskill nodded. "But why make the challenge if you could lose?"

"I agreed that whoever called it quits first lost," Ed pointed out. "And I had no intention of stopping that duel until she gave up, or one of us was dead." His expression was grim. He had been willing to give up his life if necessary. "However," he grinned. "I also specified that if 'anyone' was hurt, the deal was off."

"But... you were badly injured," Haskill said, realization dawning.

Ed grinned. "I see you missed what she didn't. I didn't exclude her, or myself, from that statement. I wouldn't say it was even implied, would you?"

"So no matter what, the fight was defunct the moment she hurt you," Al replied with, what sounded to Ed, like a little awe in his tone, though more as if he was surprised he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Ed nodded. "I hadn't actually injured her in any way up to that point. I never suggested to the death at any point either. When she killed her own soldiers, she just pissed me off."

"Clever," Morroh nodded, sounding more approving. "Well done, General. But you had to know that you might have to kill her."

"I knew that the moment I donned this uniform," Ed replied somberly. He was still light headed, and more than a little dizzy, but his mind was sharply focused, still hyped up from the battle. "But one needless death has, I am convinced, saved the lives of thousands on both sides of this conflict. For that, I am willing to take responsibility for taking that life. I don't like killing, but it was a call I had to make."

Silence followed that statement. Most of the men around him had never killed anyone up close; always using fire arms. A couple of the younger folk who could hear what Ed was saying -for the venue was fairly public now - looked awed, and deep in thought. Well, let them think. The tactic wasn't classified now that it had happened. Let people understand why it had been done, and why it had been necessary.

"Still, General Armstrong will not be happy to hear about it." General Olivia Armstrong, Alex's older sister, had been the commanding officer at Briggs for years. She had not been pleased when Mustang had put Ed in charge of Briggs for this, and assigned Olivia to over-seeing the rest of the border situation. She had still been at Briggs when Ed arrived, and they'd had some rather interesting 'discussions' on the matter.

The doctor pushed through them all with a growl. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but I'd rather deal with the General before he passes out from blood loss."

No one argued, though Al stayed as the others stepped back.

"We'll talk more later," Ed said in dismissal to the officers. He knew they would want to discuss this further, but it gave them time to think about what he had said. As they left, Doctor Stevenson got down to work.

"Certainly did a number on yourself this time," Stevenson grumbled.

"Couldn't be helped," Ed replied. He didn't feel defensive. He should probably, but he was too tired. "Should give the Drachman's something to really chew on for a bit. It'll delay them for quite a while I think, if it doesn't outright end open hostilities."

"Optimistic are we?" Stevenson was a wry sort of fellow.

"He's right," Al smiled at Ed as he defended his brother. "They'll have to think twice now."

"Better than stuffing my hospital with more patients I suppose," Stevenson sighed. "Got enough from the fighting we had today as is," he grumbled on as he stopped the blood that was already mostly clotted on two shallow gashes on Ed's ribs and bandaged them tightly, declaring several of them cracked and a couple definitely broken, and put his arm back in a sling. "Badly wrenched," he declared the shoulder. "Muscles badly strained and some tearing too. Don't use it for_ anything _for at least two weeks. Mild concussion and your temperature's already up," he added after a thorough inspection of Ed's skull and neck. He also bandaged two other serious gouges, one on Ed's arm, and a long thin one on his left thigh that also took a few stitches. "I expect you'll have quite a fever in the next day or so, even if we manage to stave off any infections. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a more pressing to check on as well. I'll be back soon."

"More pressing than this?" Ed didn't mind being brushed aside, but what 'was' more pressing?

Stevenson's smile was enigmatic, and not quite mean. "I think you'll agree with me, General Elric. It's your wife."

"Winry!" Ed tried to hop down off the table, grimacing as he swayed, light headed. "What's wrong with her? Is she..." he stopped, realization dawning. No. Yes. Why not?

"Yes, General. Your wife is in labor."

Ed felt a surge of urgency as he tried to stand to follow the doctor. He had to get to her! Now! He had promised to be there. But his body betrayed him, protesting harshly and refusing to leap up and follow. It was probably a good thing, given how likely he would have been to injure something else, but he scowled and winced, refusing to cry out in pain as he sat back down. "Damn it! Al, help me here!"

"You probably shouldn't move, Ed," Alphonse commented calmly. "You're still pretty bad off."

"I promised her, Al! Now help me in there or I'll transmute your underwear into catnip!"

"Calm down, Brother," Al started laughing. "All right, all right. But don't blame me if Winry and the doctor yell at you for this."

"I'll take all the blame," Ed replied, calming down a little. It took too much energy to be angry, embarrassing as that way to admit, even to himself. He had to rely almost entirely on Al to keep him upright as he made his way to the room where Winry was. "I just...have to be there. I can't miss this."

"Have I told you how incredible you are?" Ed asked, almost not daring to raise his voice above a whisper.

"Only a dozen times," Winry chuckled lightly. "But keep going. I'm not bored of it yet." She cradled the sleeping form of their newborn child in her arms, well swaddled against the chill of Fort Briggs, despite the fact that the hospital was kept warmer than most of the rest of the place for the sake of the patients.

The most adorable baby girl. As soon as he'd heard her cry, and seen her for the first time, Ed understood a little better what it was that had made Maes Hughes so irritatingly doting about Elicia. "Sara Tricia Elric." He leaned over from where he sat on the bed next to them, so he could run one finger -a real finger- across the soft skin of his newborn daughter; named for both of her grandmothers. He was sure she'd have the spirit of both of them. Ed laughed. "She's perfect."

"She is," Winry agreed. "Though she definitely has your appetite."

Ed stuck his tongue out at her playfully. "Oh really? You can tell that already?"

"Of course," she smirked. "Though I have to admit, I'm curious. Why name her after my Mom first? Not that I mind of course, since I agreed to it," she added.

Ed smiled more gently. That was an answer he was happy to give. "Because she should have her own identity," he replied softly. "'Tricia Elric' will always be my mother. Naming my daughter the exact same thing seemed wrong to me. Like it was trying to bring back part of her in another way, one that would put a lot of weight on someone else. She's 'not' Tricia Elric, and I don't want her to be. I think Mom would have approved."

"I think she would have too," Winry certainly sounded like she did.

"Besides," Ed grinned, keeping himself from dropping into too much quiet brooding over the past. "I think Sara is a beautiful name."

"At least we both agree on that," Winry smiled softly back. "You'd better heal up fast so you can hold her properly," she scolded, though Ed could tell she was more worried about him, and relieved, than angry now. She'd yelled at him enough during labor for being stupid enough to fight an alchemical duel almost to the death right before the birth of their child!

"I'm doing my best," Ed smirked. "Believe me." He wanted to wrap his good arm around his little girl so badly it hurt. He could cradle her in his auto-mail arm well enough, and she probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference much at this age, aside from the fact it wasn't warm. He hoped she wouldn't mind too much.

"General."

Ed looked up at the nurse in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Brigadier General Elric is here. Shall I tell him to wait or let him in?"

"Let him in of course!" Winry exclaimed before Ed could answer.

Ed grinned and nodded. The nurse left, and a moment later Al stuck his head in, grinning broadly. "Finally! I thought they'd never let me in. They've been putting me off for ages." He closed the distance and looked over Ed's shoulder. "Wow! She's beautiful. She looks like you, Winry."

"Thanks," Winry smiled. "Would you like to hold her? You're her Uncle after all."

Ed didn't think Al could have looked more pleased. "I'd love to." He reached out, gently cradling Sara as he brought her into his arms and cradled her. Sara cried out a little, but settled as soon as she was in Al's sturdy grasp. "Hello, pretty girl. What's her name?" he asked.

"Sara," Ed replied, stifling the twinge of jealousy that welled up as his brother got to hold her before he really could. It wasn't Al's fault he was injured, and he would have plenty of time. "Sara Tricia Elric."

"That's perfect," Al smiled softly. Ed smiled to himself, hearing his brother repeat his own words. "She's so incredible." He looked up from the baby in his arms. "How are you doing, Winry?"

"Fine," she smiled, obviously enjoying the moment. "Tired, sore, but surprisingly good. It couldn't have gone smoother."

"Good!" Al looked almost as relieved to know that as Ed had felt when it was over. Witnessing the birth of his daughter was a memory he would cherish forever. "And you, Brother?"

Ed smirked. "Tired, sore, and absolutely thrilled." In truth, physically, he felt like hell, but that seemed to pale in the presence of their newly extended family.

Winry rolled her eyes while Al chuckled, "I've brought good news," he said. "It looks like we should be getting at least a respite, if you didn't just stop this war flat."

"Oh?" That was almost more than Ed had hoped to hear. "What have you heard?"

"Well, Mustang's going to want to talk to you directly," Al said, rocking Sara in his arms and walking as he spoke, but he was clearly excited. "But, apparently, Central is already receiving calls from the Drachman government about a cease-fire. Suddenly, they're being very accommodating."

"More like cease-alchemy," Winry smirked, though Ed thought he sensed pride in her voice, and see it when she looked at him.

Ed grinned. "Don't worry, I feel too worked-over to let it go to my head. That's great news!" If that fight had been enough to end this, Ed would have happily done it repeatedly. Well, maybe not happily, but willingly. All he really wanted now was peace. He felt joy, and pain, and somewhere inside he could feel his stomach gnawing away at him in hunger, but it all felt muted by overwhelming exhaustion and relief.

"You look like what you really need is food and rest, Brother," Al commented.

"We could all use some of that I think," Ed replied stretching, he heard his back pop and winced. "Geez, I feel like I've aged in one night."

"More like one fight," Al quipped, grinning. "But you have, Brother."

"What?" Ed scowled. "You're going to tell me I've started shrinking too now, aren't you?"

"No," Al laughed, "Though that's not a bad idea! Happy Birthday, Ed."

What? "But it's..." Ed looked around for a clock or a calendar. Today was the Second...

"After midnight." Winry smiled. "It's the Third now, Ed. Sara almost shared a birthday with you too."

"Well how about that," Ed looked over at his sleeping daughter. Wow, that still sounded strange in his head; right, but strange all the same. Barely a day apart. Was that a blessing, or a curse? "Al, bring her here please." He didn't care how difficult it was, he was_ going _to hold her! He didn't care if the nurses yelled at him later for over-exerting himself. He could sit up; he could hold his child!

Al came over and gently transferred Sara into Ed's auto-mail arm as he reached up and brought her to him. Sara awoke at once and started to fuss. Ed's eyes widened and he started to rock her gently. "Shhh. Hey! Hey! It's all right," he smiled, trying not to panic. "It's me."

Sara wailed louder.

"You're all right," Ed kept trying. What was wrong? "It's Daddy, Sara. Please, don't cry."

Great, so she liked Al better? He kept rocking her. "Auto-mail's not warm enough for you, is it?" he asked, feeling disappointed.

"Oh, Ed," Winry gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's all right. Sara just needs time to get used to everything. There are so many strange sounds and sensations. She's only been here few hours."

"I know," Ed sighed as he handed the baby back to Winry. As soon as she was snuggled close against her mother, Sara stopped crying again. It made sense; the only one Sara would really recognize right now was Winry. Ed hadn't been home with them for her to recognize his voice. Still...

Al's hand landed lightly on his shoulder; Ed winced anyway. "Don't take it too hard, Ed," he said reassuringly. Ed tried not to be irritated by the tone. He was definitely tired. "You've got plenty of time to get to know each other."

Ed nodded. "That's true." He forced a smile back to his face. It came easier once he got it started. "I have no intention of going anywhere... except home, when they'll let us."

"Given your state," Al smiled, looking amused. "I don't think that will be long. Our orders were to come back in one piece. You're precariously close to falling apart at the seams."

"So, if I remove Ed's arm or leg he has to come home?" Winry grinned, looking predatorily at him.

"Hey! I think we got close enough to that earlier," Ed waved one arm at her in protest. "It'll need repair anyway. Let's just hope this thing is really over." He would feel bad leaving, even injured, if it wasn't over. It wasn't in him to leave work undone, or anyone behind. Not unless there was absolutely no way to avoid it.

"Personally, I think it is, Ed," Al replied, his face serious, but sure. "I really think it is."

"We'll know soon enough," Ed nodded. He should go talk to Mustang, and see what was going on, loathe as he was to leave. He started to stand.

"Where do you think you're going?" Winry asked, looking at him sharply. "Sit back down, Edward. They're not going to let you out of here in your condition anyway. I'm surprised they haven't strapped you down to a bed yet."

Al smirked. "They tried earlier. Decided it might be smarter not to keep him away from you."

Ed rolled his eyes, but relaxed back into his seat. "All right. But can we get some food in here? I'm starving!" He was pretty sure Winry was too.

Al headed for the door. "I'll see what I can do."

February 4th, 1927

"Mrs. Elric, you shouldn't be doing this." The nurse, a middle-aged woman named Nancy, fidgeted in the open doorway.

Winry wrung out the cold cloth and placed it once more on Ed's fevered forehead. She smiled patiently at the nurse. "I've been sitting at his bedside since we were little kids. It seems wrong to let someone else do it now."

"But you just gave birth two days ago!"

"And I feel fine," Winry smiled. "Besides, he's mine too." Sara was asleep in the infirmary room that was still Winry's. Ed had a separate one, and it was only his rank that had them both with private rooms, and Ed wasn't in a communal room with several soldiers; that and the severity of his injuries earned him a little privacy. "The last time I nursed him myself he was missing an arm and a leg," and then, recovering from the surgery that had replaced them both.

Nancy blanched, and Winry guessed she had figured out exactly what she meant. "Yes, Mrs. Elric. Of course, I just…"

Winry gave her an even look. "I appreciate your concern, but my parents were doctors. I know what I'm doing, and I'm not going to risk Sara's health or my own." Ed's fever was injury related, as expected, the cold… unsurprising, and unlikely to be catching. His injuries were… painful to consider; his ribs, wounds, his damaged shoulder; a concussion; so much at once. It was the worst off she'd ever seen him since that day. He'd been stupid, as usual, if considerate, and not told her the extent of his injuries while she was having Sara.

"All right," Nancy sighed. "I don't mind, but I'm going to hear it from my superiors later."

"Tell them I bullied you into it," Winry grinned. "Alphonse will back up that story willingly."

Nancy chuckled on her way out. "I'll remember that."

With a sigh, Winry turned back to Ed. He'd gotten worse during the night, the fever rising and he was getting sick too; yesterday he hadn't been able to get out of bed. Winry hadn't been allowed to look in on him, and it had driven her crazy, though Alphonse had spent a lot of time visiting both of them in every spare moment he could manage. He had come in a few times today as well, though everything was in chaos after the battle two days ago, and he was more than a little swamped.

As soon as they gave Winry permission – hah! They'd just gotten tired of telling her no she suspected – she went to see Ed. He'd slept fitfully all day, sweating heavily. Aside from the occasional murmurings brought about by fever dreams, he had come awake only once that she could really count, since it was the only time he'd opened his eyes and seemed to recognize her. He hadn't even really come around the two times nurses had come in and given him an injection of antibiotics, or saline to keep him hydrated. The only way she'd known he'd noticed her was the brief moment his eyes spent focused on her face before he'd drifted off again.

As tough as she knew Ed was, Winry worried anyway. Despite everything that had happened to them in the intervening time, she had never been able to forget the site of Al, as a suit of armor, holding an unconscious Edward in his arms while Ed bled profusely from the stumps of his two lost limbs, how weak he had been and how close to death he had come before Pinako had saved him, or how fiercely he'd refused to scream during the initial auto mail operation and his determination in therapy to get used to his new limbs as quickly as possible. He'd skirted death so many times, and Winry suspected she would never really be immune to the worry and anger that plagued her every time he did it.

The cloth was warm again. Winry wrung it out and filled it again with icy water. That was one good thing about being so far north, the water was definitely cold! She placed it once more on his forehead, watching the rivulets run across his flushed face, and almost surprised that she never saw steam rise up from the contact. The fever was high, very high, as he fought off infection and his body struggled to heal itself. None of the alchemists with them were skilled healers; there were no short cuts or real ways to ease his torment aside from medicinal remedies – mostly herbal based, or so strong they could be dangerous if misused. The herbal remedies were inefficient pain killers and fever soothers at best, but they were what they had. Winry had seen for herself, and heard more from Edward and Alphonse, about the medicines being produced in Europe and other places on the Other Side, where science had prevailed; a good side to a world where science had produced so many weapons as well. It was ironic really.

Under her hand, Ed stirred, and his eyelids fluttered open. Despite glassy eyes, he looked up at her. "Winry?" he croaked through a parched throat.

She forced a smile, though she was glad to see him come awake, however briefly. "It's me," she assured him. "Not a dream, I promise."

Normally Ed would have laughed, or smirk, or had a witty retort waiting. Winry would have been happy to see or hear any of those things. "So…thirsty."

Winry reached for the pitcher and small cup that were waiting by the bedside. The water was cool, but not cold. She poured a little and leaned over, helping him prop his head up enough to take a few sips. As soon as they found the right angle he drained the glass, and a second, then a third. All in slow sips, but Winry was glad he was drinking. When he stopped, she guessed he was finished and lowered his head again.

For a moment, she thought he had already drifted back to sleep. But his eyes cracked open again. "Thanks."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

It was all she got out of him. His eyes closed again, and he was quickly unconscious. Winry hoped the fever broke soon.

February 5th, 1927

It was late the next afternoon before Ed really awoke. He was still hot, and definitely ill, but his temperature was down he thought and he could tell what was going on around him. He heard the doctors assuring Winry that he was doing much better, and wished it felt that way. Now, he was fully aware of every ache, every bruise, every pain, and all the misery that went with being sick. It hurt to look around for long, or move his head. It was better than dying, but not by much.

He listened to the nurse and a doctor come, talk with Winry, and go before he bothered to open his eyes. He wasn't interested in dealing with hospital personnel right now. Winry was watching him. For her benefit, Ed managed a weak smile. "Hey," he managed, though his voice sounded embarrassingly creaky. "Check out the cute nurse." It took more effort to speak than he'd expected.

"You'd better not say that to all of them," Winry teased, clearly relieved replacing the cloth on his forehead again. The water felt blessedly cool on his face.

Ed sighed and closed his eyes to keep water rivulets out. "You're an angel."

"Well I can't argue with that," Winry chuckled. Her voice was soothing to his ears.

"How's Sara?"

"Sleeping right now," she replied. "She's doing great. Eating well, sleeping a lot; a perfectly normal healthy baby."

"That's good." Damn he was tired. He tried to keep focused. "And you?"

"Still a little sore, but that's all," she said. "They wouldn't let me up much the first day, and I slept a lot. Getting used to Sara eating and wanting to be fed every three hours." One hand lightly brushed his face.

There was so much Ed wanted to know, if he could make his mind wrap around the words and get the ideas out. "How… long have I been out?"

"Almost three full days," Winry replied.

Man, talk about tired! Ed started to chuckle, but coughed instead, his head aching at the sudden movement. "Ooooo… what's been going on?"

"I don't know a lot," Winry replied, and Ed could tell she wasn't lying. "I haven't seen much of Al today, and no one else will really tell me anything useful. I just know there hasn't been any fighting since you beat that other Alchemist."

"Well, that's something at least," he managed, smiling weakly before coughing again. He opened his eyes to find Winry had a cup of water for him.

"Here," she smiled. "It'll help."

When he had the coughing under control, Ed wasn't sure he had the energy for much more. "I hate being so weak," he groused, closing his eyes again. Too bright. If he hadn't thought she'd have laughed in his face, and Stevenson wouldn't have refused, Ed would have asked for a drink over whatever they were giving him for the pain. It wasn't working!

"Well if you'd stop running headlong into danger," Winry didn't finish the thought, though Ed could tell she was partially joking. She knew as well as he did that sometimes, situations weren't really avoidable. This one had been…regrettably necessary. "Though there is some good news. The Doctor said they'd transport us home in a week or two, whenever you're well enough."

"Transport?" Ed forced his eyes open. What did that mean? Ship him home like so much luggage now that he wasn't any use?

"Well there's no way you'll be able to travel normally for months," Winry explained patiently, apparently anticipating his reaction. "So it'll be a private train car, and we'll be escorted. They'll want you to spend a couple of days at the military hospital in Central once we get there too, just to make sure you're all right after the trip."

Ed snorted. "I'm not a baby."

Winry frowned. "No, a baby has more common sense." She straightened the blankets over him, clearly agitated but trying not to get physically violent. Ed was momentarily grateful. "But they want to make sure no one takes a cheap shot at you while you're vulnerable."

Ed wanted to argue that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and even opened his mouth to do so, but nothing came out. It was too much effort, too quickly; which made him pause, and he had to stop and think. Much as he hated to admit it, they were right. He doubted he could have fought off a kitten right now, let alone an attack from an enemy, even a regular soldier. "All right, I promise not to make a fuss about it."

"That's a good boy," Winry patted his cheek.

"No need to sound so smug, and quit that, I'm not a dog." Ed frowned, but the speech was the most he could handle at the moment. He found himself drifting again despite fighting to stay conscious.

He still felt Winry's hand on his cheek. "I know, Ed. Rest now."

It was the last thing he heard before he was out again.

February 6th, 1927

The next time Ed awoke, he found Alphonse sitting watch. He felt like hell…but cooler; and not chills either. "How long have I been out this time?" he asked with a half of a smirk.

"Just since last night, Al smiled at him. "Your fever broke this morning. I wanted to wait to see if you woke up."

"You want to talk." Ed didn't ask, he could tell it from Al's phrasing, his tone, the look on his face.

Al nodded. "I do, but only if you're up to it."

Ed considered shrugging, but his shoulders didn't want to cooperate, they felt heavy, and his injured one twinged painfully. "I'm not that delicate," he smirked, hating how squeaky and weak his voice sounded. "This is about Ice isn't it? About what I did?"

Al looked somber, but nodded. "I know what your orders were Brother but… did she have to die to end this?"

Ed winced. Of all things, he always felt like he'd disappointed his little brother when he had to resort to violence. As good of a fighter as Al was, he wasn't a killer. It still surprised Ed that Al had agreed to become a State Alchemist now, after everything they had gone through years ago. Al had told him that he did it to help improve things from the inside, to bring about peace, and the new military under Mustang was one he could understand and trust a little more. That, and this time, it kept them side by side. But with all that… "I didn't want to kill her, Al," he managed finally. "But yes, I knew it was a possibility when we got here. Even more when I made the challenge." He stopped, and swallowed.

Al offered the cup of water, held up to his lips. "Why you, Brother? Especially when Mustang has tried so hard to keep Alchemists defensive."

Ed took several sips. "Because," he said finally, with an ironic smirk. "I'm the only one who could get away with it."

Al scowled. "That doesn't seem like a very good reason."

"I know you're disappointed in me," Ed sighed, turning his head a little, to get more comfortable, and so he wouldn't have to look his brother directly in the eye. "And the cause doesn't justify the means. But orders are orders and… in the end, there wasn't anything I could do to take her down without ending it." Weakness, on his part; he hadn't been good enough to stop her without resorting to that final blow. But in the end, it had been her, or him, and while he had made the challenge, and she had broken the rules, he'd had to save himself and everyone under him. Still, that didn't make it right. Taking a life always weighed heavily on him. He would remember every death for as long as he lived; Majahal, Greed… now Ice, whatever her real name had been. "It's not fair, Alphonse. It's not right either. But it was necessary."

He heard Al shift in his seat. "I understand that Brother, but that doesn't mean I have to like it." His voice was very soft.

Ed cringed. "I know, Al." It came out as little more than a whisper. Damn it! He was not going to cry, not now.

He felt Al's hand clench on his auto mail arm, more from the change in tension of the arm. "It doesn't get any easier, does it Brother?"

"No Al, it doesn't. No matter how we rationalize, or how little people's lives can seem to mean compared to a goal or greater good… they really do matter no matter how much we delude ourselves." A tear escaped the corner of his eye. "I'll kill when I have to, but I don't have to like it."

He thought he heard a sigh of relief come from his brother, but he wasn't sure. He squelched an irrational feeling of resentment. Even with the defensive alchemy they had been practicing, people died despite their efforts. Still, the vow he had made to himself years ago still stood; Al hadn't been forced to kill anyone directly, and he was determined to keep that promise, though he'd never told his brother. Al had seen more than enough of his share of deaths; he was so peaceful, even now.

"I'm glad," Al said after several moments. "I hate this war. I hate that it's happening at all, or that we have to deal with more warfare; that people fight each other for the stupidest reasons. It just… after a while it almost seems normal. That's what scares me most."

Ed forced himself to meet his brother's eyes again. "It should, Al. It's only when it stops scaring you that you should be worried about yourself. I'm a cold, selfish bastard sometimes, but war still lives a bad taste in my mouth."

"Good." Al smiled. "I do worry about you, Ed. You've never handled it well in the past, no matter how hard you act like you do."

Ed sighed, but smiled. "I wish I could say how much was acting," the last was punctuated by a dry cough.

"Enough," Al offered him the cup again, and Ed drank. "Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing here; I have to remind myself."

"Oh?" Ed looked at him. "And what's that?"

Al chuckled. "To keep you from doing something stupid."

"Then I'd say you failed," Winry chuckled as she came in. "Hungry, Ed?"

He blinked, the question actually catching him off guard. He hadn't thought about food in… his stomach growled audibly and he realized that one of his many pains was a roiling empty space in his middle. How long had it been since he ate?

Winry smiled. "We got a few spoonfuls of broth and some oatmeal into you, but you haven't been very cooperative. I figured you must be about ready to eat your own auto-mail," she set down the tray in her hands on the bedside table. Al moved to give her the seat by the bed, standing behind her.

Eager, Ed turned his head – a little too sharply apparently – as his vision exploded in stars and his injured shoulder complained. Dumb move, Edward. "Tell me it's edible…"

Al chuckled. "Well it is hospital food, but that's never stopped you before."

The meal was disappointing; at least to Ed, who would have much preferred a good steak, fresh vegetables, and a loaf of bread…or three. There was a vegetable and chicken stew with everything in small, very soft pieces; at least they were sort-of solids, a little bread that Winry insisted on soaking until it practically fell apart from the stew, and a cup of herbal tea. "You'll get something more filling when you can handle it," was all she said, in a firm no-nonsense voice as she spoon fed him.

"This is humiliating," Ed commented. "And way too slow."

"Stuffing your face will only give you indigestion," Winry huffed. "And you can't do much with that arm," she pointed the spoon at his left arm. "Or your auto mail until I can do some repairs. But I'm not messing with that until we get you healed up some more."

"Thanks." Really, he meant it. The idea of auto mail repairs in his present condition made him shudder – or at least think about shuddering; less painful that way. Especially if she had to remove it and reattach it. "So, Al," he looked up at his brother when he'd finished eating. "What's the news? Tell me it was worth it."

Al nodded. "You did it Brother. Looks like this will all be over soon. There hasn't been anymore fighting along the border anywhere. The Drachmans haven't dared to try a thing."

Ed felt a weight lift from his heart. At least taking a life hadn't been a waste. "Good." The guilt, the nightmares, the regrets, they would all be worth it. "I don't know if I could forgive myself otherwise."

"Now none of that," Winry sighed. "The world is a safer place now, because of what you did. As long as you made the decision, instead of following someone else's order blindly, you'll live with it."

Ed tried not to look startled. He knew Winry had been more than upset to find out that her parents had been killed by Mustang, his orders from the military; murders in cold blood, even though she had understood his reasons later and gotten over it. Maybe that was why she could say it at all. Still, she had a point. He nodded very slightly. "It was my choice. My orders were to use my best judgment and do what I thought necessary."

"That's all?" Al looked at him. "You told the Generals it was some strategy you and Mustang worked out."

Ed smirked. "We did. And that's the wording of the actual orders he gave me."

"Orders to do what you'd do anyway…" Al chuckled. "Smart move. No wonder you didn't tell anyone what they were. Top secret indeed. If anyone important knew…"

"Exactly." Ed felt a little smug; which was better than his other feelings at the moment! "We did discuss the possibility of coming up across their alchemist, and strategies for dealing with it; but actual orders well, let's just say we worked things out." He tried to say more, but his voice broke. Damn.

He found himself sipping water again. "Well I'm glad," Winry said. "I just want this whole thing over with. No more lives lost."

Ed nodded. "That's the hope." He felt his eyelids droop and forced himself to stay awake. This was important.

"Don't push it," Winry scolded, but without most of her possible venom. "You're still sick. Let yourself rest." She bent over and kissed his forehead before standing. "I'll be back later. Sara will be up and hungry soon."

"All right," Ed nodded, he couldn't help but smile at the brilliant one she flashed him on her way out the door. He looked up, and saw Al watching her go.

"What's that look Al?"

Al blinked, and blushed slightly. "Nothing brother."

Ed smirked. "I've seen that look on your face before."

"All right," Al shrugged, smiling abashedly. "I'm a little jealous is all. When we were kids, I wished she'd look at me like that. She was so kind to me when you were gone, but… it was never more than a child's crush, and gone by even then. Winry's never been interested in anyone but you like that."

"You never told her how you felt?"

Al shook his head. "I couldn't. It would have been like stepping on your memory, when I didn't even think you were dead! It's enough that we can be close, like brother and sister, the way it's always been." He looked over at Ed with his 'serious' face. "Are you mad at me brother?"

"Me?" Ed barked a laugh. "Hardly. We did fight over her when we were kids, Al. It's not like you're gonna steal her away."

"No of course not!" Al laughed, one hand behind his head. "It's just a little awkward, you know. I'd like to find the right girl, fall in love. There are plenty of really great ones, but it's just not that simple."

Ed nodded, his expression softening. "No, Al. Even sometimes when it's right in front of you it's not that simple."

"Mmmhmm." Al nodded, his expression showing that he understood.

Ed rested his eyes; no, life was never that simple. Though all he wanted right now was to get well faster, so that he could take his family home.


End file.
